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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26929855">Dead To The World</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoliTheSenate/pseuds/BoliTheSenate'>BoliTheSenate</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blurb, Cryptic Writing, Gen, dark fantasy i guess, fantasy and cryptids, inspired by spooky season, sometimes i listen to music and this happens</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:34:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>352</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26929855</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoliTheSenate/pseuds/BoliTheSenate</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>cryptic writing based on word-plays</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dead To The World</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is part of the same universe as another piece of cryptic writing i did when sitting outside in the dead of night bc i did not have a key and no one was home, so... </p><p>there probably will be more</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She stood at the edge of the forest, wind in her back and her dark, tattered mantle engulfing her small form. In the shadows behind her, hidden between leaves and rotting bark, her children were swarming. She could sense their unease about their mother leaving the forest, leaving the realm of their shared power. The pallid Woman laughed, though no sound was leaving her lips.</p><p>Taking another step into the open field, she mused over the lacking sensation in her feet. Where cold snow should bite in her soles and numb her toes, there was nothing. She closed her eye, imprints of the silently glittering reflections of the moonlight on ice still dancing before her.</p><p>Another ripple of unease went through her children behind her and she realized a new presence had joined them. Slowly turning around, cloak now billowing behind her and revealing equally tattered, white and red burial linens wrapped around her.</p><p>
  <em>Husband. </em>
</p><p>Her lips were still, her eyes sightless and her limbs without sensation.</p><p>Her husband inclined his head in a silent greeting, moonlight almost bending around the place he stood. The Firstborn stood behind him, their long, feathered limbs seemingly merging with the skeletal trees around them, masks glittering in cold grey.</p><p>
  <em>Why have you come? </em>
</p><p>“To see my wife. Do you wish to leave?”</p><p><em>No</em>.</p><p>Again, he inclined his head, hair the colour of half-dried blood sliding over his shoulder.</p><p>“Arsay.”</p><p>
  <em>The name of a dead woman. </em>
</p><p>“And yet you are here.”</p><p>
  <em>Am I? </em>
</p><p>His voice was gentle, his gaze kind and his arms open in a silent invitation. “You stand before me.”</p><p>
  <em>Do I? I cannot feel the ground beneath my feet nor the wind on my skin, I cannot make a sound in this realm and the eye I use to see isn’t mine. I am dead to this world in every sense that matters. </em>
</p><p>“Does it bother you?”</p><p>She let out a breath as cold as the cold winter’s night air.</p><p>
  <em>No. The snow just made me realize again. </em>
</p><p>Sadness washed over his deep blue eye. “I wish I could share more with you.”</p>
  </div></div>
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